Just Beth

In the breastfeeding world, my youngest son Bobby is known as a ‘twiddler’.

What this means, to you who don’t breastfeed, is that while this gorgeous, delightful baby is nursing, the hand that is free zeros in with laser-like intensity in search of my other nipple.  And once it finds said nipple, the baby twiddles.

He yanks, he twists, he pulls, and my PERSONAL favorite is when he gets those paper thin fingernails in there and scrapes. It’s like being fifteen all over again.  awesome.

This is not fun.  I don’t want anyone to think that I’m getting any sort of enjoyment out of said twiddling.

Now, when he’s nursing on my right side, I allow the twiddling, which obviously is occurring on my left nipple.  I think it’s OK on that side because when Sally was a nursling, she decided that my right breast was not quite … uh, ‘up to par’, so to speak, and nursed exclusively from my left breast.  So I’m pretty sure that my left nipple is completely calloused over and therefore has probably has no nerve endings left.  Or something.

When we switch sides, however, and he reaches his pudgy little hand over to my RIGHT nipple, every nerve cell in my body begins to shriek.  It would appear that my right nipple has a direct line to the ‘Annoy The Shit Out Of Mom’ nerve cell center, and his pinching and grasping makes me want to… well, it freakin’ makes me want to WEAN him.

Yes, it’s that bad.

It’s the most annoying, horrible thing ever.  I try to keep him off of it… away from it… The Nipple, whatever.  We fight each and EVERY time we nurse, over his quest To Twiddle and my desire to Not Be Twiddled.

Today I was trying very hard to get he and his sister to sleep as quickly as possible.  My husband is out working and I really, reeeaaaalllyyy needed the break.

Therefore, tonight I decided to Allow The Twiddle.

I relaxed, thought about other things.  Breathed deeply, took myself to my Happy Place.  It wasn’t so bad.  For about a minute.

When I couldn’t stand another millisecond, I brushed his hand away, a motion I have made about a bazillion times since his birth.

He wasn’t on my nipple.  He was sleepy enough that his hand dropped off and so I ran my hand over my breast again, just to kinda try and see what he had been messing with.

I couldn’t find my nipple.

Honest to god, my nipple was GONE.  gone.  G.O.N.E., like as in, Not Present and definitely Not Accounted for.  I HAD NO RIGHT NIPPLE.

I began to suck my breath in… in order to begin shrieking, and as my muscles tensed so that I might leap out of bed because OH MY GOD WHERE HAS MY RIGHT NIPPLE GONE, I felt … something.  Like an indentation, something totally not right.

He had twiddled my nipple all the way inwards.  As in he INVERTED my nipple.  I had to squeeze it kinda like a pimple to get it to pop back out.

I’ve almost never been so terrified in my life.

And honest to god, that boy is NEVER getting near my nipples again.

christ.

I just realized something, sitting here in my new (to me) chair in my family ‘office’, revisiting a conversation I tried to have earlier with my mom, Masue.

I was trying to tell her about this online Facebook Drama thing I mentioned before.

More than that, though, I wanted to talk to her about E, and the possible similarities between my son and a brother I’ve recently lost.

I’m terrified of the similarities that I see, and I was really hoping to talk to her about it, about what she sees, how similar she thinks they may be.  See, sometimes she can read the hysteria in my voice and know just the right words to calm me down.  I hoped that she would tell me that today, that they are NOT so similar, that the fact that I know what I know and am doing what I am doing is enough to save my son, that he does not have to suffer the same fate my brother is.

Unfortunately, it will have to wait until tomorrow.

That started me thinking about the loss of my brother, and the loss of a friendship, whether ‘real’ or virtual, and how difficult it is for me.  This online relationship, for instance.  I barely KNEW these people.  Why did I let myself get so involved?  I mean, seriously.  Why would I do that to myself?

But I do it, all the time.  I get invested in a relationship that I think should work, and when it doesn’t, I have a difficult time discerning what my role in the failure was.

Still, it’s been a difficult couple of weeks for my innards, my insides, my soul and my heart. Everywhere from a little bit hurt to a great big hurt, and I never even acknowledged it until right now.

I hereby forgive myself for the roles I played in both instances, and therefore allow myself to move the fuck ON, already.

xo

b.

I have *finally* had Facebook drama.  It was like the first time that I had Blog Drama… terrifying but some how a verification of the fact that I am actually DOING something, you know?  Because as much as Facebook is drivel and fluff, it’s connected me to people I never even realize that I wanted to be connected to, you know?  Anyway.  D.R.A.M.A.

The worst part is?  My fault.  I mean, I know better.  I’m older than the people I ‘drama-ed’ with, obviously more intelligent (that’s a joke)… anyway.  I know better.  It doesn’t matter that I’m right, it doesn’t matter, any of it because I played on their level, you know?  I did it, I immersed myself in their inane drivel, and while I’m pretty sure I made my point, this victory really IS hollow.

So, lesson of the day?  You know how ‘they’ say to ‘take the high road’, to… ‘be the better person’?  I have gotten so sick and tired of being the better effing person that that I went right ahead and jumped on the low road.  And you know what?  It really ISN’T worth it.  It stinks down here.  Like deprivation and stale insecurities.

I haven’t seen it yet, but OMG you guys, check OUT this trailer!  This movie looks SO. AWESOME.  It’s going to do really GOOD in the theatres, I bet!  That Cameron fellow… he’s GOOD.  Like, REALLY good, good.  Check it, it’s called

Avatar

I think.

Anyway!  We should TOTALLY go!  Who’s in???

This is what happens when everything you watch is either a children’s show or pre-recorded.   I need to get out more.

Sigh.

xo

b.

I think I may be a sadist… is that the one that enjoys the pain?  That looks to bring pain on herself?  I seem to be, because not for the first time, I have this scab… this painful -  but healing -  nasty scab that I can’t seem to stop obsessing over.  I pick at it and make it bleed over and over again, like somehow I’m trying to keep hold of this pain…maybe in order to keep the thing that caused it  from disappearing all together?

What I know is that I pick on it, this thing that hurts me so much…I pick at it and I make it bleed again and again… but I know that once it heals, as it eventually must, that piece of me will be stronger than it was before.  It will undoubtedly be a scar…an ugly, twisted scar, but it will be a piece of me that will remind me again and again that I am better and stronger than any of you may think.

I know this might not make sense to anyone, but I’m still in the picking and bleeding, obsessive phase, and while it isn’t important enough (or I’m working on MAKING it not important enough) to go into detail about, I think someone out there might understand.  How it feels to have something to let go of, something that you don’t necessarily want to let go of… but something that must be let go of nonetheless.  How it feels to want to hold on to the pain just because it keeps you close to the thing you’re throwing away…the thing you have to get rid of.

The death of a dream is always a disgusting thing.

I have hit writer’s block. Or something. I want to tell everyone about my adorable little baby boy, who I almost never talk about on here. He’s currently laying on his red bean bag, belly down, watching some ridiculous children’s t.v. show.  He is talking more and more each day and still the goddamn cutest thing anyone has ever seen.  He is absolutely fearless, and while he has the strength of a small bull, he is gentle and empathetic, and absolutley loves babies.  He is also the most ‘dog person’ of my kids, and watching him crawl all over Big and Jaro just reconfirms my adoration for the Saint Bernard breed as a whole, and my sweet puppies in particular.

I’d like to talk about my daughter, Sally, who’s father bought her a VERY shiny, VERY pink make-up bag from Target yesterday. And yes, it came with make up in it. We’ve already had one bath this morning because she was rubbing the lip gloss into her arms, legs, face… everywhere, really. And you know what, I think that I’ve *finally* found something that baby wipes can’t get off…cheap, sparkly lip gloss. So we’ve already had a bath, and a Very Serious Discussion about how and when and HOW MUCH make-up we use. I don’t think she took it to heart…looking at her right now, her face is all greasy, and it would appear that the lip gloss she has applied since our Very Serious Discussion has found it’s way into her hair. And washing her hair is always SO MUCH FUN.

I think I’m mad at Andy, actually.

Then there’s Elijah, who is trying to play Yu-Gi-Oh with anyone and everyone.  He tried to trick me into playing with him about a week ago. I love him to death but have you ever played Yu-Gi-Oh? It’s just dumb. Sorry honey. But it is. Plus, the first few times we played with him he TOTALLY CHEATED. Yeah, that was when he was like eight, but I can’t really say ‘I’m not playing this game with you because it’s just plain STUPID’. I’d rather go with ‘six years ago when you were little you cheated therefore I’m never playing with you ever, ever again’. I don’t know which way is ‘better… it’s a judgment call I guess. I really, really, REALLY hope that he can figure out how to play with other kids online. He loves the game and no one plays with him. Shit, now I feel bad. SIGH.

Then, the most interesting news is that a friend of ours moved up here and is renting one of our rental houses! Yay! Andy and I have both known this guy since we were sixteen, and he is our most favorite hippie ever.  He has the soul of a poet and the biggest, most generous heart you’ve ever met.  He also has the longest arms and legs you’ve ever seen outside a zoo, but his smile and gorgeous eyes balance him out to be one of the greatest friends of all time.  Yay, Johnny!

So, that’s it… I guess I’m not UN-inspired, but rather TOO inspired.  And most importantly, happy. Can’t really ask for much more than that, right?

I hope any of you who read this are content at the least, ecstatic at best and have your very own hippie to love and snuggle, too.

xo

b.

Oh dear sweet heaven.  I have no idea what I’m doing with this whole website/wordpress thing.  I feel like I’m 105 and someone just handed me an iPod for the first time.

But right now, I’m watching ‘The Hangover’, my husband made us tuna and crackers (one of my very favorite snacks), I haz beerz, so I’m just going to TRY to figure this shit out niiiccceee and eeaaasssyyyy.

Sorry for the lame post.  I just couldn’t STAND not saying something.

xo

b.